St Augustine's School for Girls
by Tushkoo
Summary: An AU fic and just a little idea I thought I'd lend some time to. Ashley has been sent to a boarding school due to her disruptive behaviour, and meets polite and perfect Spencer.
1. Chapter 1

I chip away slowly at the red polish on my nails, my breathing intermittent and weighted with impolite sighs.

"Now then, Miss Davies." The balding man in front of me begins, his voice shadowed by his continual shuffling of my transcript papers. "I'd like to welcome you to St Augustine's. As I'm sure you're aware we have an outstanding reputation and excellent facilities. Do you like sports, Miss Davies?"

I sigh a little louder, hoping he'll take the hint and save his little speech for someone who actually cares.

"I see, well I'm sure we have something which might interest you. Drama club, perhaps?" He eyes me questioningly for a moment, before realising his efforts to connect with me are futile and returning his attention to my papers. "These make an interesting read, Miss Davies. I understand you're still seeing your psychiatrist?"

"Which one." I deflect, red dust from my nails scattering into my lap.

"Helen Orwell?" He queries; I don't disagree so he continues. "She seems to think you've been making some progress over the last few weeks?"

"Right." I smirk. They always say that when they don't know what else to do with you.

"I have to admit to having grave concerns over your previous school report..." He leans back in his chair, sunlight from the large window behind his desk bouncing off the top of his head. "But your mother assures me that you want to change and have a fresh start here at St Augustine's, which is why I've arranged for you to have a mentor."

"A what?" I frown, reluctantly looking up at his round, aging face.

"Someone to guide you, if you will. Follow in her footsteps and you'll have no trouble at all." He explains cheerfully, as though this really is the best idea he's had in a very long time. "She's one of our top students, a true example."

My frown deepens, the temptation to corrupt this girl already overwhelming me. Oblivious, he leans forward and presses the intercom button on his phone.

"Deidre, send Miss Carlin in please." I swear the guy actually winks at me, but maybe he just has a nervous twitch. "She's really excited about this opportunity, Miss Davies. I think you'll get along fantastically, there's a lot of camaraderie here at St Augustine's."

Before I have a chance to rain on his lame parade, we're interrupted by a meek knock at his door and the awkward entrance of a blonde girl.

The first thing I notice about her is that she's pretty, with bright blue eyes and an unsure smile, and the second thing I notice is how ugly her uniform is. The skirt is a disgusting mixture of blue and green tartan, teamed with a navy blazer and white knee-length socks.

"Principal Wilson, you wanted to see me?" She speaks so prim and proper it's enough to make me nauseous.

"Miss Carlin, I'd like you to meet our new student Miss Davies."

"My name's Ashley." I introduce, with a so-not-thrilled-about-it smile.

"Spencer." She responds softly, her eyes travelling the room and yet somehow distinctly missing contact with mine.

"Why don't you show Miss Davies to her room?" Principal Wilson encourages, keen to get us bonding and out of his way. "And then, Miss Davies, you had best change into your uniform. You can wear your own clothes after 4:00pm and on the weekends, but can I advise that you choose something a little more appropriate in the future."

I glance down at my denim miniskirt which barely reaches my thighs, honestly not seeing an issue.

"Whatever. Can I go now?"


	2. Chapter 2

I follow Spencer up a creaky spiral staircase, my heavy suitcases dragging behind me and prompting a barrage of bad language to spill from my mouth.

Spencer doesn't utter a word during our climb, nor does she offer to help me with my bags, and it's only when we finally reach the top that she turns around and fixes me with a firm, blue-eyed stare.

"You'll get a sanction for swearing you know."

"Only if you tell." I challenge, locking eyes with her for the first time.

"It's my duty to inform them." Spencer answers simply, though I notice her top teeth pinching her lower lip briefly afterwards. "But it is your first day and I guess you haven't read the handbook yet, have you?"

"Don't plan to either." I confess with a grin; she returns a disapproving scowl. "So where's my room?"

"The end of the corridor, 14C."

I don't want to waste time on further un-pleasantries, I mean the girl's clearly been brainwashed and the sooner I'm in the safety of my own room the better.

"Well thanks for showing me." I mutter insincerely, my suitcases trailing like dead weights as I struggle past her along the surprisingly lengthy hallway.

"Wait, you'll need this!" Spencer exclaims, catching up to me all too quickly and dangling a key in my face. "You can keep this one, I've got my own."

"You've got a key to my room?" I repeat in disbelief. "That's kind of creepy, Spencer."

She flushes and shakes her head.

"We have to share, everyone does. But at least there's just the two of us." She frowns a little. "Last year I was in a room with three other girls, it was awful."

"Well sharing isn't one of my strong points." I respond flatly, finally taking the key from her grasp. "It better be big."


	3. Chapter 3

The room isn't big, it's modestly sized with two single beds, a shared bedside table, one desk and a worryingly small wardrobe each for our clothes.

I sigh despairingly and flop backwards onto my new bed; it's lumpy.

"Principal Wilson gave me the afternoon off to help you unpack." Spencer explains cheerfully. "I think if we get started now we might be finished in time for dinner at 5:00pm. Wait until you see the main hall, it's amazing!"

"Great."

"Ashley?" Spencer approaches me slowly. "Are you okay? I know it can be overwhelming."

"More like underwhelming!" I exclaim, sitting up so suddenly she jumps. "This room, it's tiny! My shoes alone will fill that wardrobe, and this mattress is so thin I feel like I might fall through it!"

An awkward stillness fills the room; I gaze at her, willing a reaction.

"But we've got a nice view." She pipes up, smiling a soft, genuine smile. "Your bed will feel a lot better when you've got your own linen on it, and you can put some of your clothes in my wardrobe if you like?"

Surprised by her impromptu kindness, I shrug and feign indifference.

"Suppose I could."

"I wouldn't mind." Spencer encourages. "I'd swap beds with you too but I don't think mine's any better."

I glance over at her bed on instinct; it's neat and warm looking, kind of like her, padded out with pink frilly pillowcases and a patchwork quilt at the foot of it.

"I'm sure I'll get used to it." I say dubiously, not even attempting to fool her or myself with my sincerity. "So what classes did I get you out of then?"

"Double physics, history and french. Why?"

Grinning I get to my feet.

"Well there's no way we're spending this precious time unpacking then! I mean how often do you get to skip double physics?"

"Never, but-"

"That's what I thought. Fancy a shopping trip?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Note: Thank you for the great reviews, I had already written this part but will endeavour to make my future ones longer :)**

* * *

"Ashley, stop!" Spencer pleads as she chases me down the long gravel driveway towards freedom. "We're not allowed to leave the school grounds!"

"I think we should get one of those tiny fridges and maybe a couple of lamps." I process out loud, my tactic of ignoring her working for me so far. "Hey, maybe we could get some wallpaper and paint, bring our room into this century?"

"Principal Wilson really won't like that." Spencer frets, still attempting to stop me by grabbing my arm. "Please, let's just go back to our room and unpack your stuff?"

"No way!" I shake her off, my feet moving even faster. "This could be our only chance to get out of here, are you really going to blow it?"

"But the town is miles away, we'll never get back in time!"

"So I'll call a cab." I solve quickly. "Trust me, it'll be fine."

"Trust you?" She repeats incredulously. "I've only just met you, and Principal Wilson warned me you'd try to pull stunts like this!"

"Well then it's his own fault for not upping his security." I tease, but Spencer isn't in a joking mood.

"I can't come with you, Ashley." She warns. "And I'll have to report you if you go."

I stop running; my freshly awakened conscience and Spencer's defeated stare making me doubt myself, just a little.

"Maybe I won't come back then." I threaten, distinctly aware of just how close the main gates are, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins and urging me onwards.

"Don't be silly." Spencer dismisses, her hand extending towards me. "Come on."

I glance from her outstretched hand to the gates, and back again.

"Fine, but I really want a mini-fridge."

"We'll get one from eBay." She reassures with a gentle laugh. "You really are crazy, aren't you?"

I shrug and take her hand; reluctantly coming to terms with letting my forbidden shopping spree go. For now, anyway.

"So, Spencer, do you ever do anything you know, fun?" I ask with a curious quirk of my left eyebrow.

"Well if you stick around long enough, you might find out."

"Sweet."


	5. Chapter 5

"How do I look?" I ask with a playful twirl. "And don't lie, I know it does nothing for me. You can't even see my tan."

Honestly, this uniform is so disgusting even someone as hot as me can't pull it off.

"You look good." Spencer responds slowly, still looking me up and down. "There's just something…"

I perform an innocent curtsy.

"Pretty sure it's all here, Spencer. The hideous skirt, the ugly blazer-"

"Ashley." She interrupts mid-sentence, her head dropping to one side. "You can't do that."

"Do what?" I shrug; she sighs heavily. I can tell she's already despairing of me, and she's only known me for a couple of hours.

"You know what."

"Nope, I have no idea what your talking about."

"Your skirt." Spencer reveals with an impatient gesture. "You can practically see your underwear!"

"Yeah?" I turn around to see for myself in our full length mirror. "Your so dramatic, you can barely see the top of my thighs."

"It's supposed to be just above your knees!" Spencer grabs a thick green book off our desk. "It says so in the handbook, here, you can read it for yourself."

I push the offending literature away with a roll of my eyes.

"Please, like I care about that."

"Well you should, if you don't follow the rules you'll be expelled." She watches me for a moment, probably expecting me to show some sort of sorrow or regret. But I don't, because I meant it when I said I don't care.

"I hate it here anyway." I tell her with a resolute folding of my arms. "They'd be doing me a favour."

Spencer drops the book to her side, her shoulders sagging.

"I guess it's up to you."

"It sure is." I nod with a smug smile.

"But it's a shame." She breathes softly, her eyes flickering towards mine. "I was really looking forward to getting to know you better."

My smile fades, an unfamiliar feeling nestling into the pit of my stomach.

"Well, we can still hang out and stuff." I attempt lamely; she shakes her head.

"It wouldn't be the same."

I suck in my lower lip thoughtfully.

"I suppose I could roll it down a little." I compromise, bringing my skirt down two notches. "Better?"

"Better." Spencer affirms, flashing me a sweet smile.

"Great." I smile back, busying myself with my reflection again. Did I mention that I hate looking the same as everyone else?

"And the button, Ashley."

"What?"

Spencer rolls her eyes; because she knows I know exactly what she's referring to.

"The top button on your shirt, do it up."

"Do you have to notice everything?" I accuse grumpily, popping the rogue button back into place. "You're like a vacuum for fun, or something."

"So you keep telling me." She sighs, still inspecting my uniform carefully. "I think you're sorted, you look almost normal."

"Wow, is that a compliment?"

"Maybe." Spencer laughs, setting the handbook down on the end of my bed. "You should look through this tonight. I put a copy of your timetable inside too."

I make a pretend phone with my hand and hold it up to my ear.

"What are you doing now?" She asks wearily.

"Just calling the fun police to let them know what a great job you're doing!" I answer with a nose-crinkling grin.

"Fine, I won't mention the handbook again, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Well, I might have to sometimes. You know, in emergencies."

"Emergencies?" I repeat sceptically. "The only emergency that book is good for is burning it if you run out of logs for a fire."

"You're not funny." Spencer insists, though I swear I see her smile just a little and that's definitely progress.


End file.
